Of Pens and Knives
by The Sand Assassin
Summary: A collection of prompt and/or short stories from Poirot Café. Chapter 12: Written for Poirot Café Prompt exchange challenge #13:Hakuba legitimately surprises Kaito, forcing Kaito to re-evaluate the detective.
1. Chapter 1

Prompt: The detective boys decide (or are assigned in class) to write a story, and decide to write a mystery story.  
Summary: It goes pretty much as you'd expect if we lived in a rational world.

Wordcount : 2658

Unfortunatly rather hurriedly written. Sorry for all writing mistakes.

Edit: There seems to be a tiny misunderstanding here. This is not the start of a story. This is a one-shot. A prompt given to me by someone on Poirot cafe and one had to write a minimum of a hundred words. So whoever it was that decided to follow this story, that's really really not necessary. (My own fault too as I forgot to click 'Completed'. I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding.

...

 _ **Pens and knives**_

The corridor was deserted. The only time it was full was whenever class started or ended. Hordes of children screaming and pushing in order to get to their destination. Rows of lockers and benches lay scattered by the walls, leaving the middle clear.

In one of the room's named 'office' sat five lone figures. Three heads bowed in shame, one in annoyance and the last seemed to be confused by the entire situation. The little, brown haired girl sniffled.

"I told you we should have gone for the missing kitten." Sharp hazel eyes eyed one of the boys. Displeasure read clear in her petite face.

The boy kicked his feet slightly before turning his head around to meet her gaze. "They are the ones who wanted to do this."

Haibara narrowed her eyes. "They are kids, Kudou-kun. They don't know better. You do."

Kudou-kun – or as he was currently calling himself, Conan shook his head fractionally. Exasperation clear in his features, "They are just overreacting. I did this all the time back then too."

"Besides," he continued amicable. "You are the one who actually drew it, Haibara."

Her lips tugged slightly upwards at that. A gleam of sadism in her eyes. "How could I resist?" She purred like the cat who ate the canary.

Cold shivers went down his spine. He avoided her gaze. He wouldn't fall for her bait. He raked a hand through his hair. The fault laid in both of them. They should have known better. He was more than willing to take all the blame.

"'I still think we did a good job. I don't get what they are getting so worked up over. We spent weeks on this project! Grown-ups are just dummies." Genta's timbre voice cut in. His cheeks bulged in anger.

Mitsuhiko elbowed the larger child with a grin. "We, Genta-kun? All you did was stare at us while eating your benta eel."

"Ai-chan and Conan-kun did all the work anyway," Ayumi pipped up from her seat as she eyed the not-children with a soft smile. "We just came up with the idea. Who knew Ai-chan was such an amazing artist!"

A door opened somewhere on their right. Five pairs of eyes were drawn in the direction. An elderly woman peeked at them with an impassive expression.

'"They are ready for you now. Spit spot."

The good humour of the room drained as the children made to jump off the children-sized chairs. Ayumi grabbed Haibara's hand as she fluttered nervously. Mitsuhiko looked ashen and Genta patted his stomach absentminded.

All eyes turned towards the unnamed leader of the detective boys. Conan glanced at them, before sighing. _Alright, alright, I'll go first into the lion's den_. There were no other words to describe it. He snuck a hand into a pocket and started towards the door.

The adjacent room was filled with several people. The principle sat on a chair behind a large, mahogany desk. The vice-principle stood behind her. His face nervous. Their substitute teacher stood by the window, arms crossed as he followed the children's movements with his eyes. A furrow of worry clear in his features.

Conan glanced at him. Ah, yes. That was where the problem had started. Kobayashi-sensei had gotten sick just as the project was due. This entire spectacle could have been avoidable if it had not been for the temporary switch. He climbed up on one of the chairs that was displayed for the five children. He eyed the rest of the occupants in the room.

Professor Agasa looked ill at ease. His moustache twitched every now and again as the professor was apron to involuntarily lip movements whenever he was nervous. He tried to catch the detective's eyes to query on what he should do.

Next to him stood a very worried Ran. A hand clenched around her wrist as if she was desperately trying to not reach out to her ward. She mouthed 'Conan-kun' when she noticed him staring at her. He dropped his gaze.

The three other occupants he vaguely remembered as Mitsuhiko's mother, Genta's dad, and Ayumi's mother.

Silence settled over the crowded room. Conan twitched slightly in unease.

"Now that we are all here, we can begin," the principle started. In all her years as principle of Teitan Elementary. She had never experienced anything this shocking. If this came out, she would surely lose her job. The point of a school was to educate children in proper behaviour as well as gaining knowledge for a future employment. And more specifically, make sure they do not turn into savages and mentally unstable individual that would rake havoc to their society. The knowledge of what was right and wrong, good and bad, was important for everyday life. However, today, the knowledge that education and responsibility of the teachers had gone horribly awry had come to the surface. She had to correct this as fast as possible.

"It's all my fault," the bespectacled child interrupted with a low voice. "It's my idea. I wrote it. The rest have nothing to do with it."

Ran gasped in surprise. Her eyes watered as her entire body twitched. The urge to go to the boy she regarded as a little brother was clear in her movements.

Conan coiled slightly from the clear distress in the girl's actions. _I'm sorry Ran_.

The three real children looked ready to argue, but held their tongues when Haibara shot them a warning.

The eighteen year old-turned six crossed her arms as she glared defiantly at the principle. "Edogawa-kun wrote the story, I drew it." Though her expression was fierce, her voice came out in a monotonous and bored intonation. She ignored the surprised glance Conan shot her. She would not let him take all the blame. That would mean she owed him. She hated owning people.

The principle cleared her throat slightly as she glanced between the two children. Indecision and uncertainty clear in her face. "Is this true?" She turned to the three-silent kids.

Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko glanced at each other. A wordless conversation shared between them. A few seconds passed as several expressions flickered across their faces.

Conan was getting a bad feeling about this. _Oy oy, don't tell me_. His eyebrow twitched slightly in exasperation. Just as he finished the thought, the three children turned towards the principle.

"It was our idea. Conan-kun and Ai-chan did as we told them to do."

"They are lying." Conan gritted. He folded his arms across his chest and sent his friends' a displeased expression. He was trying to protect them for goodness sake. This was not a laughing matter.

The principle looked bewildered. A finger tapped on the wooden surface of the mahogany desk. Several emotions flickered across her features before she came to a decision. She stood slowly and faced the older inhabitants of the small room. "Yoshida-san, Tsuburaya-san and Kojima-san. Would you please step out of the room with your children for a little while? I assure you we will come to the bottom of this. I'd like to listen to the children's stories separately."

The next moments were filled with agreed murmur and rustling of clothes and chair as the population halved. Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi sent their two friends distraught and concerned looks. Genta tried objecting by shouting and grabbing the doorframe. Kojima-san did not pause as he picked up his son. The protesting children's cry of accountability drowned out when the door closed shut.

Conan slummed back in the chair. His breath leaving his chest in relief. At least the kids were out of the woods for now. He glanced at Haibara. The remaining question was thus, what would happen to them?

Haibara was of no help whatsoever. Her expression possibly gleaming with amusement as she regarded him. She knew well she would get out of this with little reprove. Agasa knew her secret identity. Ran – Ran did not. The merciless tilt in her lips made his stomach sink fractionally. He was _screwed_.

The principle coughed. All attention snapped back to the authority figure. "We all know why we are gathered here. The pupils of Kobayashi-sensei had a project due this morning. Unfortunately, she had gotten sick the night prior and Shige-sensei was kind enough to substitute for her." She nodded towards the man standing by the window.

Shige straightened as he was introduced. He was a man in his late twenties. Dark hair framed a virile face. He had kind, jade-coloured eyes, making him quite popular with older women. His face now featured a worried expression. "For the project the kids were to write and draw a story together as a group and present it. One of the project," he hesitated, eyes wandering across the room to gauge the reaction of everyone present. The furrow in his brow deepened when his gaze fell on the two children.

Haibara's face were carefully blanc, desperately trying not to show any trace of her amusement or fall into bits of giggles.

Conan's squirmed in his seat. He laced his fingers. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Ran's eyes burned into his back. He gulped, stomach filling with unmistakable dread. He could predict were this was going and he was not looking forward to the repercussions. _Why_ had he let it go so far?

"It has come to our attention that Kobayashi have neglecting her duty as a teacher and instead encouraged appalling behaviour." The principle cut in. Her eyes gazed upon the room with a rigid expression. "Be assured we will be releasing Kobayashi-san from our employment immediately and make sure she will never work in the system again. We apologise for any inconvenience caused by this and any therapy sessions needed will of course be payed by this institution." The principle and vice-principle bowed.

All previous enjoyment in Haiabara's face drowned, leaving her looking pale. Eyes widened as the realization hit them. This was not within the expected consequences. Being grounded and some counselling sessions yes, but costing Kobayashi-sensei's her job?

Conan's stomach dropped in dread. _They can't just – they wouldn't –._ The chair fell in a clatter behind him as he rushed to stand. "Kobayashi-sensei isn't at fault! It's me. I did it." He dabbed a finger against his chest. "That does not merit sacking her. Kobayashi-sensei is a kind hearted and amazing teacher. You cannot deprive us of her presence. No one will stand for this injustice."

The principle's eyes hardened as she peered down at him. The lines around her lips tightened. "Oh, we are well aware what nuisance you are, Edogawa-kun. We've kept an eye on your development. However, we resigned to stay out of it as no depraved notification has been given from your teachers. Until now. Kobayashi-san not only did not warn us about this problem, but she outright _encouraged it_."

She leaned across the table to pick up some sheets of files. "You are a frighteningly intelligent young boy, Edogawa-kun." Her eyes drifted up from him and landed on the person standing behind Conan.

Conan's breath hitched as he remembered they were not alone in the room. He turned around to peer at Ran. His heart shattered from her crestfallen expression. She looked even paler then earlier, tears accumulating in her wide eyes and her hands shaking slightly. The guilt overcome him with a suffocating embrace.

"Before Yoshida-chan, Tsuburaya-kun and Kojima-kun met him they were just like every other child in their class. Now they run around completely obsessed with crimes and death. Does this count as normal behaviour for six-year-old children?" The strict tone of her voice conveying her opinions. She thought Conan was manipulating and _dangerous_. "Look at these. This is their project. A murder mystery. How could any child conceive of these horrendous crimes? They even have detailed faces."

Her hands shook slightly as a page slid between her hands. It flashed its contents to the people in the room. A face similar to Conan's was covered in blood as a knife was plunged into his chest. Conan swallowed. _What had Haibara been thinking when she drew those?_

Dejection and shame flashed across Ran's features. She gasped softly. "It's my fault isn't it? I should have kept him away from the crime scenes." Tears fell freely from her eyes.

The principle shook her head and fixed the girl with a pitying gaze. "It is most certainly not your fault, Mouri-san. His parents on their other hand." Her eyes dropped to regard Conan. _What kind of parents leaves their children with strangers half across the world?_ Read clearing her face.

Conan clenched his fists. It was true he had been left alone by his parents the first childhood around at the age of fourteen. He never begrudged them the need to travel. It had given him the freedom to act as he wished. He glanced back at Ran. This entire situation was ravelling out of his reach. What could he possibly do to rectify this? He had already decided to take all responsibility. But how could he do so without it ending up with hours of therapy sessions and possibly institutionalised if they believed he showed sign of ASPD at this early age? Dread spread through his veins at the thought.

"This is what we are going to do," the principle continued. "We are going separate the group. Possibly find private tutors for those who requires it." The glare she sent the two children indicated she meant both of them.

For the first time since they entered, Agasa stepped forward. "I can – erh – I can take them."

The principle tsk-ed "Rest assure we'll be sending social service to check out the validity of that."

Agasa withered visibly. His moustache twitched in distress.

Ran cleared her throat, interrupting the suspicious scowl the principle was sending the professor. Her face looked ashen and the tension in her shoulder's tired. "Is that all? Can I take Conan-kun home with me and continue this tomorrow? We've all been quite shocked."

"She's right," Shige glanced at the principle. "We should not speak of this in front of the children. We still need to talk to the other parents."

The aforementioned woman's lips thinned possibly even more before she nodded. "Naturally. Before you leave though, I would like the contact numbers for the children's real parents."

Conan and Haibara glanced at each other, panic flashing in their eyes. This had gone out of hand the moment they stepped into the room. He would have to call his parents and ask for help. They were bound to have contacts that could help sort all of this out. But that did not stop the fact they had been careless and never considered the school as a complication towards hiding their secret identity. Entering elementary school was suppose to help hide them, not blow their cover. Could everything unravel from this tiny mistake? It was almost laughable to think about, if it was not so serious.

He took a deep breath. _One step at a time, Shinichi. Leave the office, get home and contact my parents._ He had to take a second breath in order to keep away the panic that curled in his chest. _Just one step at a time_.

The next few moments went by in a blur. Ran and Agasa left contact numbers – in the professor's case a burner phone. And they were out the door.

Ran fluttered next to him nervously. Her hands twitched in distress as though they could not decide what action to take.

He bowed his head. Every single lie he had made was threatening to unravel in front of his eyes. What could he possibly do to fix things with Ran? There had to be something he could do. The next couple of days would be vital. A new plan was needed in order to sew all of this together. If it even could.


	2. Conspiracy Logs

For Poirot Prompt Exchange #4

This prompt threatened to become longer then I had time for (being in the middle of end of term essays and exams) and decided to do it as simple as possibly. A lot of the story is implied and I ended up going through it twice adding several days and/or more information just to feed the information in with a silver spoon. I hope it's understandable and that Prompter-san likes it.

Prompt: Mouri Kogoro is acting suspicious and not like his usual self. Conan investigates.  
Rating: K  
Wordcount: 730

Apologies for all who liked/followed the previous thread, I decided I required a place to put prompts and/or short stories from Poirot Café.

I'm also not averse to taking prompts if anyone felt the need of gifting me one.

...

 _ **Conspiracy Logs**_

Kudou Shinichi keeps several mental logs on the people closest to him. This is vital information to document in order to stay concealed as Edogawa Conan. If anyone conveys any suspicious behaviour he is certain to record it in its respective log in order to be able to access the information when needed.

He also keeps separate logs concerning Mouri Kogorou and Ran's everyday behaviour looking for any abnormalities that suggest they might be on to him.

Here is a couple of extracts from the behaviour logs concerning Mouri Kogorou going from 24th of April to 5th of June:

 _24_ _th_ _of April_

 _Mouri declined the invitation of joining two young women for dinner, claiming to be too tired._

 _28_ _th_ _of April_

 _Mouri did not complain about having to carry out the garbage to Ran's astonishment._

 _30_ _th_ _of April_

 _Being in Kisaki Eri's presence did not cause an argument between the lawyer and the detective._

 _Ran is delighted._

 _2th of May_

 _Finding an 8 year old's lost bike is no longer beneath Mouri's capabilities._

 _5_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri was singing while washing dishes. Unpleasant experience._

 _7_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri left before Okiko Yoko's live Saturday cooking show despite Ran's reminder. Claimed he was meeting a client. Further investigation did not reveal a case file nor any details of the meeting on Mouri's webpage, phone records, calendar and email._

 _9_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri decided to cook dinner. It is surprisingly not an unpleasant affair. Suggests Ran got her culinary skills from her father._

 _Personal note: If Mouri can cook, why have I only eaten Eri's ghastly catering whenever I visited as a child?_

 _13_ _th_ _of May_

 _Enomoto Azusa knows something. She would not divulge any information during light interrogation. Further investigation is required._

 _Reason of suspicion: Azusa giggled while serving coffee. Mouri shushed her._

 _14_ _th_ _of May_

 _Once again, Mouri disappeared from the apartment claiming to meet a client during a reprise of Okino Yoko's live cooking show from the week prior. Examinations revealed no information regarding the meeting._

 _Ran is getting worried._

 _16_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri voluntarily cleaned the apartment despite Ran's reassurance that she could do it._

 _21_ _th_ _of May_

 _Family dinner with Kisaki Eri went without any obstacles. Ran is delighted._

 _23_ _rd_ _of May_

 _Met Enomoto Azusa with the Shounen Tantei-dan. She queried about Ran's parent's wellbeing. Her tone suggests a hidden message. I have not been able to decrypt it._

 _Ayumi gave her a multi-coloured paper-flower from today's recess-class._

 _24_ _th_ _of May_

 _Amuro Tooru seemed confused when enquired about Enomoto Azusa and Mouri's suspicious behaviour. Either he is genuinely in the dark or he is not willing to share the information. Difficult to tell._

 _Further investigation is required._

 _27_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri took the Shounen Tantei-dan to the aquarium. He treated us to ice-cream unprompted._

 _Earned brownie points from the children._

 _28_ _th_ _of May_

 _Mouri declined invitation to be a judge with Okino Yoko on today's 'Food to enjoy on Saturdays'._

 _Mouri disappeared 7.36pm and it did not show up before after 1am. His whereabouts were not revealed during Ran's intensive interrogation._

 _Mouri smelled of sweet perfume, however he did not come home under the influence of alcohol. Examination of his coat uncovered spores from several flowers. No mud on his shoes tells that Mouri did not go through a park._

 _Ran is concerned._

 _31_ _st_ _of May_

 _Mouri did not brag about his detective skills to Megure during today's murder case._

 _1_ _st_ _of June_

 _Surprise visit from Kisaki Eri while Mouri was out. She asked Ran about Mouri's recent behaviours. She seemed pleased at the feedback._

 _Ran is thrilled at the implication._

 _3_ _rd_ _of June_

 _Enomoto Azusa continues her suspicious tittering whenever Mouri or Kisaki Eri is mentioned. Another interrogation failed, ensued by a free ice-cream._

 _5_ _th_ _of June_

 _Suspicious behaviour has been recorded. Data accumulated from the previous Saturdays from the last four weeks (excluding the Mouri's family dinner on the 21_ _st_ _) suggests a high probability that Mouri will go out today._

 _I have decided to tail him._

 _Log updated at 8.36 pm._

 _Findings inclusive: Ran cannot know._

 _Further details: Mouri is now my personal driver._

 _The Shounen Tantei-dan is no longer banned from Kisaki Eri's office (Note: see 1_ _st_ _of April for more details). She is treating us to Tropical Land as an apology every week for the unforeseeable future as an apology._

 **End of log.**


	3. Iridescent View

_Written for Poirot's Super Short Contest #14: Lipstick._

 _Author's note: When I first saw this challange, I giggled because there was only one thought in my mind as to how the story should go. Written in the memory of Elizabeth Sladen and Sarah Jane Smith; because every woman need their superadvanced lipstick spy-gadget._

 _Special thanks for Taliya for doing an amazing job betaing this on such a short notice._

 _Wordcount; 1080_

 _Summary; Of Coffee, pancakes and explosions. Jodie never gets a morning off._

* * *

 _ **Iridescent View**_

Jodie Starling loved children: the sound of mirthful and innocent laughter, the stamping of small feet through the house. And most of all, how they perceived the world with wonder and excitement. She envied them for it just a little bit – for her own childhood had been ripped away. Yet there was no resentment, for she had sworn to protect everyone else from experiencing the same terror.

Jodie sipped her cup as she leaned against the kitchen bench; her eyes followed the movement in the garden below. Mitsuhiko, Genta and Conan were playing with a ball. However the game had stopped for a few moments since Genta was scolding Conan for cheating (which he had not; it was just a part of their routine).

It was on lazy mornings like these; with the spring morning sun warming up the air, a good cup of coffee, and a stomach full of pancakes that she felt at peace – and yet, she loved her job. It was the opportunity to help – the understanding that she was doing something important with her life. However, sometimes there was that small voice that want nothing more than to settle down, maybe have a child or two, and live a life without having to look over her shoulder, constantly afraid that today would be the day she made a mistake and everyone she cared about died – again.

Shu – or Okiya Subaru as he went by these days – was whistling from the living from as he gathered the plates from their early lunch, and Jodie allowed herself a soft smile at the domestic feel of it all. She did not come here often – it was important to keep Subaru's identity and involvement a secret; to everyone he was simply a student.

Jodie's free hand crept across the wooden surface of the bench in search of her phone. However, when her fingers did not bump against the plastic item, she tore her gaze from the window. There was no phone, and it took her a second of confused blinking to remember that it was still in her purse in the corridor. She shook her head with a self-deprecating smile at her forgetfulness before exiting the room.

The Kudou household was a large, beautiful home. It was a house Jodie would have more than loved to live in one day with a family. However, it was far too large for only one person, and she sometimes wondered how Subaru managed to wander its empty, lonely corridors every day.

The sight that met her as she entered the hallway evaporated the idyll of the morning. Her stomach filled with burning cold and she dropped her cup of coffee as the next few seconds played out as if in slow motion.

Ayumi stood over her purse – her _open_ blue, ¥13.000 DKNY purse. Grasped in her small hands was a tube of red lipstick; her tongue stuck out in concentration as the little girl rather clumsy twisted the base. The sight itself appeared innocent, and it would have been had Jodie not been Jodie Starling – an undercover FBIK agent.

What Ayumi held was not ordinary lipstick; quite far from it. It was actually a small bomb issued by a secret lab that not even she was technically cleared to know of its existence. The instructions to detonate had been rather simple; twist the base five times and it would activate, and within seven seconds it would explode. And Jodie, with adrenaline levels spiking wildly and terror causing bile to rise in the back of her throat, had been so _certain_ she had left all those gadgets at her rented apartment in a hidden compartment in her closet.

As the cup hit the ground she lunged, her limbs stretching as far as she could as she shouted a warning. However, she knew it was already too late as Ayumi twisted the base of the lipstick one last time. Jodie threw herself over the girl, curling around her to shield her from the blast. Her foot slashed out in the direction of the concealed mini-grenade. She felt it graze her heel as the resultant clatter was the only indication that it was no longer next to them anymore.

Jodie held her breath and only tightened her grip on Ayumi as the girl tried to twist out of her hold with a confused noise. She could feel the child's heart racing in surprise. The agent tried to whisper _'It's going to be okay, Ayumi-chan.'_ However, the words died on her lips as thoughts of failure gripped her mind. Once again, someone would be hurt because she had been too late to stop it.

When the seconds ticked by and there was no explosion; no rocking of the room as the bomb finally detonated, she finally unfurled from her positon one limb at a time to turn in the direction of where she assumed the lipstick had rolled.

There, underneath the first steps of the staircase lay the innocent item. From this close, she could clearly see that the top of the lipstick bullet peaked up from the shell. Her heart jumped in relief as she realized the colour was a bright cherry-red rather than the deep scarlet shade on her FBI-regulated gadget.

"I found it in one of the bedrooms," a small voice sniffed. Ayumi's voice trembled from tears. "I was only borrowing it; I was going to put it back."

Jodie turned back towards the crying girl on her lap and embraced her suddenly. Ayumi hiccupped but her arms were strong as they sneaked around Jodie's waist to reciprocate the hug.

"It's alright," she eventually managed to say as her pulse calmed down when it finally clicked that they were never in any danger for a mistake she had made; her gadgets were still locked away from inquisitive fingers. Perhaps here, under this rooftop, she could finally allow herself to let go of any thoughts of the underworld wars – of secret missions and lost companions.

And as Shu sauntered into the hallway, picked up the pieces of the broken cup, and cleaned up the spilled coffee with a rag, they shared a look of understanding. Once in a while; everyone needed to take a breather away from their troubles. Even undercover agents deserved a morning off. And this, _this_ was more than enough for Jodie; the morning sun, Shu, pancakes, a good cup of coffee and the sound of laughing children.

At least, for now.


	4. Untitled WIP

_So I wrote this for the Prompt Exchange #5 from Poirot café about a month ago. Unfortunately I'd had a terrible couple of weeks throughout the writing time and this might be one of the worse things I've ever written. I'd wanted to rewrite it and exchange the current text; but so far the effort is not very successful. This will be the uncut version and at a later date I'll try to come back to it and actually finish it. Again, terribly sorry about the bad story._

 _This is unbeated._

 _Prompt: "_ _ **Any genderbend that doesn't involve female Shinichi, because we need more genderbent characters in this fandom. Preferably Heiji or Kazuha, but no holds barred on this prompt."**_

 _Summary:_ _ **Or where I just genderbend everyone but Shinichi. And somethings never changes.**_

…

 _ **Untitled WIP**_

There was that feeling in the bottom of his stomach that drowned out the terror from the Mystery Coaster ride by a mile. It was acrid and growing as it clawed itself up to his chest. His voice turned to a whisper and finally the last cry of a name got stuck in his throat. _He is leaving…_

Mouri Ranma (or just Ran to his closest friends) had the terrible feeling that he would never see his childhood friend again. He could do nothing but watch Kudou Shinichi's retreating back as he was swallowed up by the shadows of the park.

Later that evening he met Edogawa Conan.

…

Shinichi had been Ran's friend as long as he could remember. The detective otaku was brilliant and intelligent, outgoing, popular amongst his peers and exceled at almost everything he put his mind to. In contrast, Ran felt as though he was just an entourage or wallpaper in background. He was shy and silent, more delicate then handsome; once or twice he had been mistaken for a girl.

The only place he could really feel like a real person was whenever he as in the karate ring. No one cared about his faults in there. The usual timid, kind-hearted boy could let go of his social restrictions and show his real strength. Every time he went into that ring, he knew that Shinichi would be in the crowd watching and cheering; and it gave Ran the strength to beat any opponent.

In short, his entire world revolved around Shinichi. With an absent father and an alcoholic freelancer detective as a mother, Ran had spent most of his childhood at Shinichi's; and more so after Shinichi's own parents had left him alone to travel the world. It was always them against the world – though why Shinichi kept sticking with him through everything, Ran did not know.

But now, Shinichi was gone, and he was left alone at loss at what to do. Conan was a large help in keeping him busy. Whenever Ran looked worried or sad, the boy would take him out or suggest a game. The same things Shinichi used to do whenever Ran felt lonely and dejected as a kid. The likeness between the two were uncanny. However, sometimes he would sneak out to his childhood friend's house and look for clues as to where the detective could have gone. The last few weeks had turned up few inklings as to his whereabouts. Only shadows in the corner and Shinichi's voice on the phone proved that he was still alive.

Ran could not stop worry one bit. What if Shinichi's disappearance were more sinister? There were this ache in his heart that told him the detective was hiding something more than simply running off on an investigation. Not once had they kept something secret towards each other in their entire life; Ran new well the first time Shinichi had kissed a girl at the age of fourteen. Or when Ran liberated the neighbour's cat from its leash when she was six and thought leashes was a terrible thing.

So wherever Shinichi had gone; Ran hoped more than anything that he was safe, and that one day soon he would come back and tell Ran all about his travels. However, when the detective finally did come back; it was not the grand and tearful reunion that Ran had expected.

…

It started with a sharp noise as the door to the Kisaki Agency slammed open. The cups on the table jingled as the vibration echoed through the room. Kisaki Eri woke with a sharp jerk and a snore from where she had been dosing off behind her office table – the jerk sending the papers laying in disarray on the desk flying. Waving her hands in desperation, she managed to grab one piece of paper, the rest fluttered around her like deformed snowflakes.

Eri opened her mouth prepared to scold whoever had dared to waken her so abruptly from her morning nap, but the words died on her lips as a young woman stepped into her office.

Her gait swayed lightly as she stepped further into the room from the large backpack on her shoulder. Most of her face were hidden within the shadows of a cap – the peak trusted too far to properly gauge her eyes. Her skin was of a dark bronze shade, with dark hair braided into a tail and hung floppily over her shoulder.

Ran put the phone down slowly and turned to face their guest. He opened his mouth to welcome her to their humble abode, however the girl interrupted him before the words could form on his lips.

"Where is Kudou Shinichi?" she hissed with something akin to venom in her voice. "And don't lie to me. I know he is here somewhere." The girl lifted her head to glare up at Ran with confident fire flickering in her eyes. "So hurry up and bring out Kudou Shinichi!"

Ran's heart skipped a beat in surprise at the mention of his childhood friend. His head swam with panicked thoughts of why another young, beautiful woman would come to the Kisaki Agency in the search of the teen detective. Last time one had pretended to be Shinichi's girlfriend. Swallowing down the feeling he tried dissuading the accusations.

But, as the day went on. It seems this woman – a Hattori Heiji, detective of the west – somehow knew Shinichi better then Ran had ever done. And if that did not bring a disappointed bile in the back of his throat, nothing else would. He stood in the background once more as Shinichi and Hattori interacted. Only thrice under the entire meeting had Shinichi looked at him. And as Shinichi left; once more without a goodby, Ran was left back with the feeling that their friendship would never again be the same.

When Shinichi had said with a burning gaze as they met; "Wait for me ran. Soon. It'll all be over soon." Ran had believed him wholeheartedly. Everything would be back to normal again. He had swallowed his tears and the urge to envelop the detective in a tight hug. But Shinichi had had no eyes for him; only for the female detective.

The jealousy had rung hollow in his chest; for Ran had long since accepted that his feelings would go unrequited. Shinichi liked _girls_ , and he was alright with that knowing he held the spot as best friend.

It did not seem like it anymore.

…

Hattori Heiji kept showing up everywhere he turned looking for Shinichi. She quickly showed to be resilient, clever and on par with his childhood friend. She was loyal and Ran didn't have the heart to hate her. She was perfect in every way; competitive, intelligent and beautiful. Ran could never compare with her; and he was okay with it. No matter what their relationship was, Shinichi seemed to pay as much attention to her as he did to Ran.

Hattori was a nice person, even inviting Ran, Conan and his mother to Osaka.

…

The small restaurant was crowded with people and noise. They had been lucky to find free seats by the bar counter. Ran and Conan watched with curiosity as the chief made hot cakes. The boy turned towards Ran with an eager smile; his eyes gleaming behind the glasses.

"Osaka really is a great place, Ran-niichan!"

Ran responded with a soft smile and a nod. He was glad to see Conan so relaxed for once; usually he walked around as though the entire world was on his shoulders. Sometimes, she wondered what he had gone through in his short life to be both attentive to his surroundings and other people's moods. "It sure is, Conan-kun!"

Not long after the words had left his lips, before a shadow cast above their seat. Ran turned his head on reflex, eyes narrowing as the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He had had the strange feeling that someone had been following them all day.

The sight that met him was of a tall, lean man in a mustard coloured knitted sweater. He had a pointed face, with brown hair put back into a short ponytail. He generated an aura of tight-lit anger from every step before sliding in to the seat next to Conan.

Ran's heart jumped to his throat at the surprise; a part of him not liking seeing such an enraged person sitting next to a small, defenceless child. "That's our friends –"

The stranger didn't look in his direction; he stared into the air in front of him as he leaned his head on the palm of his hands. "You must be Kudou."

Ran blinked in surprise. Not only had the words spoken with a controlled, monotone voice, but once again a stranger had come seek out Shinichi though Ran. Before he could respond, the teen continued speaking, turning towards them with an expression of uncontained jealousy and spitefulness.

"Oshizu talks about you a lot. Someone just like you."

Ran's stomach dropped and was filled with numbing ice cubes. How many women did Shinichi have in his life? The very thought that Shinichi kept more secrets were upsetting. Was this why Shinichi had gone up and left all those weeks ago? To be with women across the country? He shook his head; he knew Shinichi. Knew Shinichi was better than that. But the gnawing feeling generated from the stranger's expression told him there were something between the detective and this Oshizu-person.

He bit lip to keep it from trembling. He vaguely noticed how Conan had frozen in his seat and inched backwards towards him.

"Don't play dumb, I already know exactly what happened." The stranger continued, and he kept talking without any input from Ran as though he had prepared the speech a hundred times.

"Don't lie"

"You must be that boy Oshizu talks about. The boy he met in Tokyo. That Kudou boy."

Ran's heart continued aching as the one-sided conversation continued. His head dropped forward and his throat constricted painfully. How had he not known that Shinichi was dating anyone? They very thought that Shinichi did not trust him anymore hurt more than a thousand needles to his chest; and Ran wondered for just a few moments if he had done something wrong to chase Shinichi away. Perhaps his childhood friend had figured out he had feelings for him?

"I can tell you something right now," the man waved a fist in Ran's direction. Fires flickered in his eyes as he hissed with venom. Even without having any deduction skills; Ran could clearly tell that this person was trained in a martial art. "I have always been friends with Heiji, and in the past with a bond of steel. If you want to make a move on Heiji, you have to go through me first."

"Kazuha, what are you doing here?" A light, confused voice shot in, effectively interrupting the stranger's ranting. And five pairs of eyes snapped in the newcomer's arrival. Hattori cocked his head in confusion as he peered at them with open curiosity.

Kazuha's lips curled upwards as he spitted out; eyes darting in the direction of Ran. "I came out to take a good look at this Kudou-person, Oshizu."

Hattori flushed; angry red blotches spread across her cheeks. The smile died as his voice turned into ice. "I told you, Kazuha. My name is Heiji. HEIJI. I'm a detective; not the wife."

There was a second of silent glaring and unvoiced words, before Kazuha slumped his shoulders. A hand came up to scratch his head; the motion pulling some brown strands from the pony tail. "Sorry Heiji; I forgot."

Ran and Conan shared a look. There were definitely a story behind that; and it only took him a few seconds before realizing what. Heiji and Oshizu were names from the novel _Zenigata Heiji_. A detective and the stay home wife.

He ducked his head; his chest filling with both envy and veneration – of Heiji's strong will and refusal to back down to social expectations. Perhaps if he had been stronger Shinichi would not have left him.

As things were explained and the situation absolved; Ran found himself actually liking Kazuha. Aside from his temporarily stalking, he was an overall great guy. They also found they had a lot in common. They were both in love with someone unattainable.

...

 ** _N/A_**

 _I've never read '_ Zenigata Heiji _', so I don't really know the relationship with the two. I only created that in an excuse to continue calling a female version of Heiji, Heiji. Kazuha is apparently a name that goes for either gender. I kind of had to ignore Sonoko as I didn't have time to figure out what to do with her name. And I sort of just switched Eri and Kogorou; it was easier. The entire thing is just cheesy._

 _The idea was born from something TinyTaintei wrote on a forum on Poriot café: by genderbending one character so that the coupling turn into a heterosexual relationship would mean their homosexual relationship isn't good enough. (which incidentally were the reason for her to make the prompt in the first place)._


	5. Daily Value

_**Written for Poirot's prompt exchange 6: Kobayashi Sumiko is Chardonnay**_

 _ **Words; 922**_ __

 __ _ **Rated; K**_ __

 __ _ **Unbetaed. Sorry for all writing mistakes.**_ __

 __ _ **Title: Daily Value**_

 _ **...**_

The sun had been warming all morning. The grass smelled fresh as the dew melted away as the morning passed. A group of children ran after a football on the field of grass. Their laughter reaching where Kobayashi Sumiko sat on a bench. The sun had long since flushed her cheek red.

They did not need to go back inside the school for another half an hour.

Next to her sat a red apple Mitsuhiko had given her earlier.

Sumiko jumped slightly as something buzzed by her hip. For a second her heart leapt in her chest before she realized it had only been her phone. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching her - this corner of the school ground was deserted but for the janitor watering the flowers and two girls playing with dolls under the shade of a tree - before fishing the phone or her pocket.

Her lips twitched for a second, before giving up and stretching into a fond smile as she clicked on the message. Shiratori Ninzaburo had sent her a picture of a cat wearing a sun hat.

She dropped her hand and her gaze settled on the group of kids playing in the field - it was a common sight to see Mitsuhiko, Genta, Ayumi, Conan and Ai playing whenever they could. The chatter of happy voices and laughter waved towards her.

Sumiko felt at ease - happy and content, and she let herself think that this was it. This was the good life. She was happy; a job she enjoyed, a boyfriend, spending time with adoring children and even had a group of friends. This, if she should start all over again, was what she would have done.

Except...

"Enjoying yourself, _Chardonnay_?"

Her smile dropped immediately. A cold shiver raked down her spine and she straighten while reaching down to grab the small knife hidden in her boots. Her eyes flickered towards the voice. The face that met her was familiar; it was the kind face of the janitor. Receding sun-bleached hair, bags underneath hazel eyes, a stubble on the chin and dimples from years of smiling.

Sumiko dropped her gaze, lips thinning and turning white from the pressure as she kept her eyes focused on the children. There was only one person she knew who was that adapt at disguises.

"Vermouth," her tone fell flat as the name was wrenched from her lips, "you shouldn't be here."

Vermouth took her time responding, there was the ruffle of clothing before the seat tipped for a second as the assassin sat down. "Don't be like that. I just want to chat."

Even though Sumiko did not look in her direction, she could feel the unnoticeable grin on Vermouth's face. It sent another shiver down her spine. "I thought you told me it was too risky to make contact," she shot back, her voice only trembling slightly on the last vocal. Her thoughts span in uncertainty. If Vermouth was here, did that mean her mission was over?

Her mouth tasted of ashes at the idea, could she leave all this so easily? For once in her life she felt truly happy. What was the chance of meeting Shiratori Ninzaburo again after all these years? Logically she knew, knew all this was just a flicker of a fantasy. Sooner or later she would have to wake up and move on with her life. Kobayashi Sumiko was just a cover.

But not now - not yet. She was not ready.

When Vermouth did not respond, Sumiko glanced in her direction. The assassin's gaze was settled on the group of children playing in the field. Genta had fallen on his knees trying to grab the football from Conan, however his expression was that of vexation rather than pain. It probably helped that Ayumi was fuzzing above his shoulder. Conan stood to the side. His hair swaying in the soft spring-breeze and one foot planted on top of the ball as he spoke to Ai.

It was a familiar picture.

Sumiko looked back at Vermouth with an inquiring expression. Vermouth looked almost sad and wistful. Sumiko would not have noticed had she not known her for years - the assassin had recruited her into the organization in the first place.

"Who are they?" Her voice was soft as she spoke. She had wondered ever since Vermouth had given her this mission. "Why are the children," she paused for a brief second. "Why is Edogawa Conan so important?"

Vermouth did not look in her direction, her gaze still locked on the figure of Conan, a small smile curling on her lips.

"You'll see, Chardonnay. You'll see," was all she said as she rose from her seat. She looked down into the face of her protégée with an unreadable expression. "Make sure the silver bullet doesn't die just yet."

Sumiko watched her leave silently. All warmth from the day long since left her body and she felt cold to the bones.

Whoever Edogawa Conan was, and whatever Vermouth had in plans for the young boy, it did not bode well. All Sumiko could do was to make sure he stayed alive enough to be of to whatever Vermouth was planning.

The cold stayed with her for the remainder of the day, and her smile was forced as she guided the children back into the school fifteen minutes later. If Conan glanced in her direction with a calculating gaze, she did not remark on it.


	6. The Song of the Sirens

**_Written for Poirot's Super short Contest #16; Mermaid_**

 ** _Summary; At one point, every girl shares the desire to be a mermaid. Aoko is not an exception and purchases a mermaid tail._**

 ** _Wordcount: 1091_**

 ** _Rating: K+_**

 ** _Title; The Song of the Sirens_**

 ** _Special thanks to the amazing Taliya for betaing._**

…

She cut through the water like a spear with her arms clasped above her head. She pushed her chest down, then released as the hips were pressed down – _don't lock your knees_ – then extended the knees as the hips released, letting the undulating motion flow through her legs and ended with a fluid snapping of her feetfins.

And repeat

The water slid against her skin, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. There was a certain freedom in the water, like she was floating in the source of life itself. She could feel the push and pull of the currents, the more minor disturbances in the water indicating the existence of other people. There was a movement in the peripheral of her vision, however she ignored it – this was her space.

It started as a tickle in the back of her throat which gradually spread to her lungs with a familiar burn. Nakamori Aoko exhaled, releasing the last breath of oxygen in a burst of bubbles as she resurfaced, her lungs expanding automatically in order to gulp down the fresh air. She leaned backwards to float and her tail flopped to the surface, the emerald green scales glittering in a dozen subtle shades from the reflection of the sun.

From the edge of the pool, she heard Keiko's excited voice mixed with those from a group of children, and a smile blossomed on her lips as she pushed the swimming goggles to her forehead.

One of her best memories of her mother was from when she was four and saw a live-mermaid show. Her mother's eyes had shone with such wistfulness that Aoko had vowed there and then to become one just to make her mama happy. Aoko had taken swimming lessons since she was six, and though the dreams still burned within her, she had stopped answering, "'A professional mermaid'" whenever anyone asked her what she wanted to do since she was nine. She was self-conscious and embarrassed about the dream. A career being a mermaid was simply not a feasible option, and so she had ignored the fantasy.

However, a few months ago, she had stumbled across a website selling mermaid tails and the yearning swept through her. She had money saved and, after several days in which the aching had not evaporated, she had approached Keiko for help – the person she trusted most not to ridicule her.

Keiko hadn't. In fact, she had been even more excited than her as the tail finally arrived.

Aoko breathed slowly and deeply in order to fill her lungs once more before she flopped her feet and the tail followed the motion, sending a wave of water towards the edge. Her Audience cooed and giggled in response. She twisted her upper body to submerge the tail – the tail felt like a part of her after months of practicing, the latex fabric less restricting and the weight comfortable.

"Hey, Aoko!"

She froze, her breath hitching in her throat in panic – she knew that voice.

"Kuroba-kun!" Keiko sprang to her protection, arms waving as she blocked Kaito's advance. He gave her an amused quirk of his lips, however his eyes drifted towards the public pool in order to seek Aoko from the crowd.

Aoko did the only thing she could think of and ducked her head, hoping against anything that he would not spot her. She offhandedly noticed that he had not been wearing a bathing suit; rather, he was still in his school uniform.

 _'That BaKaito had been following her!'_

Kaito's eyes lightened up as he located her and he smoothly evaded Keiko with a puff of coloured smoke and a red decoy-balloon. Her previous audience's attention was now directed towards the magician, and the children cheered in excitement.

Aoko saw the moment he noticed the tail, and the smile froze on his lips as he came to a full stop. Her cheeks flushed red and she lowered her eyes, waiting to hear him laugh. Instead, he let out a gurgling noise that somehow resembled her name. Her eyes snapped up in his direction again, her heart leaping for a second as it sounded as though he was in serious pain.

She barely caught the sight of a dark blur before a splash washed over her; she lifted an arm to shield herself before clumsy limbs scraped across her skin.

"You – _BaKaito_ ," she stuttered between the movements as the water threatened to submerge her, trying to resist the pull of the arms around her hip before his stronger build pushed her to the edge of the pool and up to dry land.

Aoko felt stunned by the sudden change, and she coughed, as she had swallowed a few mouthfuls of water. She had no time to get her voice back in order to yell, as Kaito was suddenly crouching above her, his eyes glued to the pool. His voice was low and the quivery tone indicated he was filled with naked terror.

"There is something in the water. Are you alright –"

Aoko pushed against his chest to force him off her, her fingers pressing against the soaked shirt and she realized he had not taken a second to remove it before plunging into the water. His wet hair clung to his temples, making him resemble a waterlogged cat.

"Get off me, you idiot," she groused instead of analysing the implications of his rash decision making. Her mermaid tail flopped against the ground as she twisted awkwardly, the noise making Kaito freeze again as his eyes finally rested on the tail.

There was a second of silence, before he scrambled off her, a silent scream on his lips. Glass shattered and skittered everywhere as he overturned a table in his haste to retreat.

Aoko pushed herself up to glower. Of all the scenarios she had imagined if and when anyone fund out, this had not even entered the equation.

"I knew you were half a fish," Kaito commented amicably after calming down. It had taken a while before he approached her again. There was something unreadable in his expression as he continued, "Only fish can be that evil."

Aoko did not spare a moment as she pushed him back into the pool. The resonating splash and spluttering of arms and half-drowned words made a smile twitch in corner of her lips, and was worth the flush of her cheeks from Kaito's – relatively calm – reaction to the whole ordeal. Perhaps she should not have been so nervous about coming forward with her dreams after all.


	7. Operation Gunnerside

**_Prompt: Hakuba, Kaito, and Shinichi work together to solve a problem. (You can bring in the other two Geniuses or Sera too, if you'd like. And the "problem" can be as serious or inane as you see fit.)_**

 ** _I rushed a little through this, seeing as I've been sick unfortunately._**

 ** _Unbeated, but special thanks to Zaki for being my motivation and my muse. And for coming up with a suitable title, you war-history nut._**

 ** _Title: Operation Gunnerside_**

...

The thick drift of snow obscured the view as he made his trek down the street. His footsteps was visible only for a few minutes after, before the ever-falling snow filled the indentions. Hakuba Saguru lifted up the collar of his jacket to keep the icy wind at bay, but it served no protection from the cold biting his nose.

The winter evening was silent but for the passing of vehicles every few minutes, and Saguru regretted telling Baya to drop him off at the end of the street lest he attracted unwanted attention. He lamented his decision now as the wind and snow howled around him. It threatened to stumble his step as he made his way down the thick layer of slush.

Finally reaching his destination, Saguru made to turn into the in garden surrounding an inconspicuous and ordinary house. Looming over the property stood the two-stored building, looking no larger than to be able to house a family of three. However, the detective knew from previous experiences that the structure housed more than what first met the eye.

A movement in the corner of his eyes made Saguru snap his head to the house to his immediate right, and his shoulders tensed in warning. Nothing was of the ordinary , except for the miniscule ruffling of the curtains on the second floor. It could be nothing, the detective told himself, perhaps a house-pet brushing against the texture or a puff of air from the heather, however he had the distinct feeling someone had been observing him.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he swallowed thickly to keep the dread in check. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach with nerves – if he was caught sneaking in it could mean disaster. He only let himself settle on the nervous feeling for a few moments, before shaking it away and continue forwards. The longer he loitered, the larger the chance of detection became.

Saguru let himself into the house – the door had not been locked – and he pursed his lips in displeasure. Whether or not he had been expected, the door should have been bolted regardless. He quickly removed his jacket, happy to dislodge himself from the wet appendage, and the warmth immediately chaste away the cold that had settled into his bones from his short trek. His shoes followed a moment later and he stepped into the sandals already prepared and ready for him.

The detective did not have to search the house in order to locate the inhabitants, as he could already hear voices drifting from the kitchen. The house was modestly furnished with expensive décor. The walls were filled with family pictures, but the newest frame was at least 5 years old. Saguru did not let his eyes rest on the interior decoration as he made his way to the kitchen.

"What about the roof? I could enter from the roof," Kuroba Kaito's voice met Saguru as he approached the kitchen, and the detective came to a stop in the archway as he gazed into the room to assess the situation with a careful expression.

Kuroba, already clad in a white attire – and it looked as though someone had tried to brush his hair with a wet comb before giving up as indicated by the unruly mop of hair – had his back to Saguru and he stood over a large map filling the kitchen table. Although the half-brit could not spot the engravings on the parchment from his current locale, he did not have to guess to know it depicted the plan buildings and the surrounding area of their target. By the window, keeping an eye towards the snowstorm outside, stood Kudou Shinichi with a cup of still steaming coffee clutched in his hands.

"That wouldn't work," Saguru finally voiced his presence as he stepped fully into the room, and he felt a slight pleasure tingling in his chest as the magician tensed a moment in surprise before turning around to face the newcomer with a frown etched between his brows – he had clearly not heard the detective's arrival. "They would be expecting that point of entry and have an ambush in store."

Kuroba did not look happy, but he nodded in concede at the wisdom of Saguru's words. From where he had been facing the window, Kudou turned around to face them with a thoughtful expression.

"That's precisely why it's the best course of action. If their attention is drawn to Kuroba, we can make our entry elsewhere without notice," Kudou stopped talking for a moment, before stepping forwards towards the parchment covering the table and stabbed a finger on the paper. "They would be expecting that course of action also. If we pretend Kuroba is the main-source of distraction, but blunder through invading from the backdoor, they will never expect us to wander in from the front entrance. Their forces will be too thinned out focusing on the distractions."

Kuroba tilted his head as he followed Kudou's plans with an intense expression – not once did he blink an eye at being used as bait. "So the plan is to split up? What about casualties if one group end up being surrounded by the enemy?"

For a moment, Kudou's lips quirked downwards in displeasure, it was clear the thought had crossed his mind but he had inevitable decided it was the best course of action. "Then we'll lose soldiers. It's the end result that matters. We can't afford to lose this battle," the resolve in the detective's voice though hard as steel, was also soft with sorrow at the thought of the possibility of losing a comrade.

Saguru had no objections: it was a sound plan.

Kuroba gave court nod, the bangs shaking slightly as he did. "Then there's only one issue left."

"What issue?" Saguru asked and stepped forward to let his eyes wander over the plans. Had the magician noticed something in the plans that he had not? Considering Kuroba was a thief and used to thinking in different angles when infiltrate a building, it was a large possibility that he had seen something the detectives had overlooked.

"I have to take a leak," he continued with a serious expression, however Saguru had observed the magician enough times to know he was seconds away from sprouting into a taunting grin.

Saguru wasn't amused, and parted his lips to chid Kuroba for not taking the situation serious, when Kudou spoke. He did not look up as he did, his eyes glued to the parchment in front of him.

"Thank you for pointing out the problem, Kuroba. I expect you to handle the security issue before the mission."

Rather than looking disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm or outraged proclaim from Saguru – for the detective was sure Kuroba had said it only in order to rile him up – instead, he looked amused and just a tiny bit pleased as he leaned over Kudou's shoulder.

"What if I stumble over a problem and need back-up?"

Once again, Kudou did not bat an eye as the response came immediately. "We already agreed we could afford to lose people."

…

The snow had still not let up and the wind howled around Saguru as he made his trek through the dark. The only light came from the second floor's window, and from a lamp from the street that barely glinted through the large oak trees shielding the property from curious glances from the road.

In the end, Saguru had volunteered to be the second decoy entering from the backdoor once Kuroba made a fuzz on the roof. He had found a hiding spot that gave a good viewpoint to the yard while he waited for the signal. Although the snowstorm obscured most of his vision and made it difficult to scout the area, it also decreased the possibility of being detected – all he required was to stay hidden until stage 2 was ready to be implemented.

He wrapped his scarf around his shoulder tightly. Hopefully it would not be too long till – or he could risk frostbite.

It happened too quickly for him to register the movement – there had been no sound over the wind, before he could inhale a puff of cold air, something hard exploded into his back. The force of the blow sent him spiralling into the snow head first. He gulped down a pocket of snow as he gasped for air, the icy crystals biting into every inch of unprotected skin. Pain tingled through him, and his back ached – he would definitely feel that tomorrow.

Saguru twisted in the snow, and as his lungs contracted he barely managed to call out: "I'm hit," lest he was shot again. He got no reply, and he used the seconds of silence to rise to a seated position. He unwrapped the scarf and started to shake the snow from the fabric. With a grimace, he could already feel the melting snow slink in under his clothing.

"We figured –" spoke a voice, and Saguru looked up to see a shadow quickly approaching – his heart jumped slightly at the sight. "That you would use Kuroba-kun as a distraction. It would be such an obvious ruse, that you'd have to utilize two distractions – I assume you sent Shinichi-kun through the front entrance."

The shadows parted to reveal the familiar figurine of Sera Masumi. She was clad in a light-grey attire for better concealment in the storm, a large scarf was wrapped around her shoulders – however Saguru could tell she was grinning from the way her olive-coloured eyes shone with victory and gleefulness even from this distance.

"You have left your Headquarters wide-open opting on a full-front attack. That's why you are going to lose –" Sera's confident speech was cut of short when she suddenly stumbled. It was only for a second, but a soft swear word in English escaped her lips before she lifted her hands up. "Hit."

Once again, Saguru's heart jumped in surprise at the sudden turn around and he rose to his feet on shaking limbs just as he heard Kudou's voice call from the dark: "Everything alright, Hakuba?"

"I'm down," he replied, "continue on the mission as planned." There came no answer from his fellow teammate, and he did not expect one either.

Sera turned to face Saguru again with a puzzled expression. "You anticipated us seeing through your plans?" She did not let him confirm nor deny the accusation, before she flopped down next to him in the snow with a mirthful laughter. "This entire thing is crazy. I guess it's up to Aoko-chan and Kudou-kun to finish the game then – unless Ran-chan managed to beat Kuroba-kun on the roof already."

Saguru looked down at her with a frown, not understanding why she sat down in the snow voluntarily, however he decided against commenting at the peaceful expression on the female detective's features as she grinned up at him. "Sending Aoko-kun into Kuroba's house is a sound strategy, she is after all more familiar with the layout of the building."

With a shake of her hair, Sera scooped up a handful of snow. "I must admit, I have never played a game like this before. I've never had such good friends before coming here," her features turned softer as she spoke, and she glanced up at the British detective through her eyelashes and a flush adorning her cheeks.

Saguru's heart fluttered in his chest at the sight, and he lowered his eyes. He forgot often that Sera and he were outsiders – both being raised in different countries. He agreed with her full-heartedly, although he had originally come to Japan to catch the infamous phantom thief _Kaitou KID_ , he had instead found friends who accepted him for who he was and could keep up to him intellectually.

He had joined many an activity he would never have thought about doing in his life – help take down not one, but two crime syndicates, deciding not to pursue a thief, and now, playing a _catch the flag and snowball fight_ game. The rules were simple, if hit by a snowball you were out of the game, and the goal was to infiltrate the other teams' headquarters and find the flag hidden within. Whoever found it first, won.

"Neither have I," Saguru responded after a few moments of silence, and they shared a soft expression. Something which was ruined a moment later as a shuffle of snow suddenly rained down on them from above. Looking up with a frown, he saw Kuroba standing on the roof of the house with a grin as he howled down.

"We got the flag, get inside you turtledoves," he then disappeared from the edge.

Standing up, Sera shook herself like a dog to get rid of the excess snow, and Saguru could not help finding the imagery slightly charming as his chest warmed up. "Congrats with winning this round," she said with a soft smile, before reaching up and ruffling the snow from his hair. Before he could react, she was already gone.

Saguru could not keep down a blush at the still phantom warmth of her fingertips on his scalp. He would no doubt be teased by Kuroba for being shot, however he did not find himself to mind as he went back into the warmth and company of a group of people he was honoured to call friends. The dice had been cast for the evening: today it was the women's turn to pay for the pizza.


	8. The Peach Craving Paradox

_**Summary: A case of mistaken identity, a basket of peaches and misunderstandings.**_

 _ **Wordcount: 1080**_

 _ **Written for Poirot Café Super short challenge #18: Peach. The Peach Craving Paradox**_

 _ **Unbetaed  
**_

…

When Kudou Shinichi had gone to the market that morning, he had not expected to have his path blocked by a fruit vendor with a large, friendly smile and gotten a basket filled with peaches thrusted into his arms before he could open his mouth to greet the man.

The owner was a short man wearing a yellow straw hat – most likely in order to hide a balding patch, in his mid-fifties with his belt laying snug around his waist. "Those cravings again, ey?" the seller said, patted his arm and left a moment later with a cryptical: "It's on the house today, for my best customer."

The whole incident had happened so quickly, that Shinichi had never gotten the chance to rectify the kind man that it was a case of mistaken identity. He considered for a moment whether or not to keep the peaches, before balancing the basket with one hand and fished up his wallet from the pocket with the other. He dropped a thousand yen bill on the table – he would just have to take the chance that no one came by and stole the money – and turned to leave.

Only to have a different person block his path with a large smile and a chuckle. "You have the same problem I see?" This time it was a man in his mid-twenties, with messy hair and indigo eyes. He seemed friendly enough, expect for a slight tension of his shoulder as he peered at the detective through his eyelashes. The feeling of familiarity flashed immediately, however Shinichi could not place the hunch. When the detective did not respond immediately, the stranger's smile dropped a shade. "Peaches I mean."

"Peaches," Shinichi parroted, trying to keep the confusion bubbling in his chest from showing. First the fruit vendor, and now this person? He had the distinct feeling he was missing something important related to the peaches.

When the detective did not look inclined to continue, the stranger's smile dropped completely and he stepped forwards with a nervous expression and panic flashing in his eyes. His shoulders twitched in nervousness as he seemed to be ready to flee or fight. The whole ordeal confused Shinichi even more.

"I was hoping it wasn't the case. Thank you for not doing it at the house, at least get the peaches to Aoko? For everything we've been through together, I beg you." The voice was filled with sincerity despite the stiffness of his body, and there was a hint of regret yet acceptance in his eyes that told Shinichi that he would not make a fuzz.

Which would have been a good thing, had Shinichi still not been completely lost as to what was happening. He shifted his weight for a moment, eyes wandering up and down the figure standing in front of him hoping for a clue. Something tickled his memory again, but that might simply be just from the fact they had eerily similar facial features. _This must be the man the fruit vendor mistook my identity for,_ Shinichi thought silently, but was the stranger confusing the detective with someone else?

At loss at anything else to do, and entirely too baffled to come up with anything to say – and felt uncomfortable not knowing what was going on. The possibilities was racing in his head, and seeing as he did not know whether the cryptic word of the man originated from sinister or not happenstances – he did the first thing that came to mind, which was thrusting the basket of fruit into the stranger's man's arm with a murmur of: "Why don't you give the peaches to Aoko yourself."

It seemed to be the right choice, cause a look of relief flashed across the stranger's face as he accepted it with gratitude. For a moment it looked as though he would hug Shinichi – and he was relieved when the man didn't, seeing as the detective was still at loss on how accepting a basket of fruit had landed him into such a peculiar situation. He parted his lips to apologize and to rectify the misunderstanding between them – Shinichi was starting to feel really uncomfortable – when his companion spoke anew.

"I knew you weren't such a stick in the mud after all, _Meitantei_ ," Shinichi's stomach did an involuntarily stomach roll as the familiar name rolled off the man's lips, "I wasn't entirely sure if you'd incarcerate me or not if you figured out my real identity. I thought you were here to arrest me," he grinned, all nervousness had drained out of his shoulders. "Thank for getting me the peaches as an olive branch: its just what Aoko is craving these days."

The detective was still stuck on the revelation that a basket of fruit had somehow led him to meet the civilian persona of _Kaitou KID_ , that it took him a few seconds to put together the dots of _cravings, peaches and Aoko_. "Congratulation with the baby," he replied on auto-pilot, and _KID_ beamed at him in response like a proud father.

"You and Ran should come over next week, I'm sure Aoko and Ran would go splendidly together," the magician seemed to forgotten all about the edginess of a few minutes prior, and years of rivalry in a span of seconds – seeming to have come to the conclusion that the detective was the one offering to leave the animosity of the past behind and come friends.

Shinichi did not have the heart to refuse the proposal. "We'd love to."

When _Kaitou KID_ left moments later with a relieved skip in his step and a smile, the detective was left staring after him – trying not to gawk – with the feeling of astonishment curling in his chest at the baffling event that had just transpired. All he had planned to do that morning was buying a carton of milk, which had somehow turned into a dinner invitation from a retired international phantom thief. Furthermore, he had been entirely too embarrassed to ask _KID_ about his civilian name – seeing as he had never felt a strong urge to track the thief down in the past. It had all been forgotten in the magician's assumption that the detective already _knew_ and had simply shown up to ambush him.

This left Shinichi with five days to discover Kaitou KID's true identity before the dinner. He had never back down from a challenge. Especially when his repetition as a _Master Detective_ was on the line.


	9. The Art of Magic

**_Wordcount: 1099_**

 ** _Written for Poirot Café's Super Short Contest 20# Carnival._**

 ** _Rating: K+_**

 ** _Summary: Conan doesn't hate magic despite popular belief_**

 ** _Title: the art of magic_**

…

Suzuki Sonoko loved the carnival: it had been her favourite place ever since she was little. The carnival was an excuse to dress up in colours and watch street-performers and magician. She also loved magic – loved being amazed and the illusion of making the impossible a reality. That was why she adored Kaitou KID and taught herself small tricks to perform for her friends.

Of course, half of her audience were not impressed: Ran always applauded with a smile – however Sonoko had the distinct feeling she was just being kind – and Kudou Shinichi just deduced the tricks with an impassive expression. And then there was the kid –

"How can a child not like magic?" Sonoko frowned down at the seven-year-old boy who barely reached up to her hip. He was wearing a midnight blue Yukata and the lights from the booths reflected of his glasses. In his right hand, he was clutching a paper cup filled with soda.

"Why should I enjoy a show where the performance is based solely on deceiving the audience's senses? It is all about cheap tricks and sleight of hand movements. I do not see the allure," Conan responded with a bored tone of voice, his eyes wandering off one of the many street performers scattered around. "In comparison, I find the arts of sword swallowing more interesting, there are no tricks there."

Sonoko pursed her lips and resisted the urge to cross her arms in defence – it would not do to argue semantics with someone a decade younger than her. Why couldn't the brat be like the rest of his friends, who were gathered around a street-magician with eager excitement.

"What are you talking about? Magic is an artform, so many difficult tricks to learn and proper sleight of hand takes years to master. I doubt a brat like you could ever do it," her voice turned a little sharper than she meant to – however she was tired of everyone around her speaking ill of the art.

Ran stepped in with a placating smile as she always did whenever Sonoko and Shinichi argued. "Sonoko, I'm sure that's not what he mean, he knows it takes time to master anything –"

"Give me your phone," Conan cut her off, turning to fully face Sonoko as he held out his hand as though he was expecting to be obeyed without questions. Lights flashed of his glasses.

Sonoko's heart hammered in her chest for a moment at the familiar expression, and she almost refused the request on principle. "Why?" she asked, suspicion radiating off her.

"I would like to demonstrate my point," the boy said – she could not read his features as the glasses obscured his eyes.

Her lips curled downwards in pleasure, however Ran only smiled at them – and Sonoko could tell immediately that if she didn't, Ran would borrow the boy hers. She really could not tell why her friend dotted on Conan so much.

"Fine, but if you break it there will be hell to pay," she handed him the phone with an unimpressed expression.

Conan ignored her warning, instead he opened the lid of his paper cup and emptied the contents on the ground and put her phone into the cup. "Magic are simply dumb tricks, deceive and distract the audience's attention is all you need in order to succeed," he struggled with placing the lid back on the cup. His hand could not reach around to pop it in place properly, and it slid out of his fingertips and fell to the floor.

"Here, I got it," Ran leaned over immediately to pick it up, and handed it to him with an encouraging smile. Sonoko barely managed to not roll her eyes.

"Thank you, Ran-neechan," Conan smiled back as she accepted the plastic lid. This time he managed to put it in place. He then placed the cup on the ground and motioned them to take a step back.

Sonoko did so reluctantly, and she glowered down at him with an unenthusiastic look. "That's all? What are you trying to do?"

The boy did not glance in her direction. "This," he replied cryptically, before lifting his foot and stepped on the plastic cup. It crumpled immediately till it was but a flat sphere on the ground.

The heiress heart hammered in her chest in surprise – she had not seen that coming – and she stepped forward to grab his shoulder with a furious screech. "What the hell did you do? If there is even _one scratch_ on my phone I'll murder you."

Conan shook her falcon-like grip off his shoulders off and moved away. "Your phone is fine, just check your pocket," he responded before walking into the crowd to get to his friends.

Sonoko watched him leave with annoyance bubbling in her chest – why was the brat so disrespectful to his elders? She patted her pockets, hoping he wasn't just trying to distract her and had actually broken her phone – her parents would kill her. She felt something hard and plastic in her left pocket, and her heart stopped beating for a moment as she withdrew the item from her pocket.

It was her phone.

"When did he – ?" her eyes widened in surprise, she had not noticed when he had done that. She had clearly seen him put the phone in the cup. She clutched her fingers around the object feeling confused.

Ran smiled at her with a reassuring smile. "He'd never cause any harm, you know that –"

"Why does he hate magic so much if he's so good at it," Sonoko rushed out with flushing cheeks at being tricked by a seven-year-old boy.

"I don't believe he hates magic, he's like Shinichi."

Sonoko frowned in confusion. "But he also dislikes magic –"

"He doesn't," Ran smiled fondly, her gaze softening as it always did thinking about the detective-geek. "I think he just secretly wants to be amazed and tricked, and get disappointed when he can always see through them. Although, he does enjoy deducing the mystery. But they are still just boys through and through in the end. We all want to believe in magic, but until proven it exist, it will be impossible to believe in."

Sonoko watched her silently for a moment, before begrudgingly nodding in agreement, and she turned to watch Conan. Perhaps Ran was correct in her reasoning – it must be disappointing not being able to be amazed and believe in magic. She could not imagine a drearier world.

"I still want to know how he did that so I can astound Makoto –"


	10. Scarf-cycle

This story was written several weeks ago for the super short contest 24# Scarf for Poirot Café. This is what happens when I have a few hours alone time on a Sunday and I felt like writing something utterly nonsense.

...

 _ **Scarf-cycle**_

This story starts the way many tales does; with the birth of a hand-knitted, mitch-matched coloured hero with many a holes which was filled with affection and love by its creator. It was a string of threads barely being kept together in a shape which vaguely resembled a scarf. Kuroba Kaito was the lucky recipient of the gift, and it was hard to refuse it as Aoko stood in front of him in the chill winter with a beaming smile as a puff of white vapour escaped her breath in anticipation.

Kaito imagined he wouldn't have been quite so rude to the present had he known that this simple, seemingly innocuous act would shortly save him from imminent death.

''Did you drive something over with your car?'' He said, holding the scarf with the tips of his fingers, trying to make sense of the overwhelming rainbow coloured threads. Looking through the largest hole, he could peer at Aoko with both eyes. ''What do you want me to do about your road-kill? Burn all evidence of the massacre?''

As he spoke, Aoko's face fell from blinding proudness to pain and tearful eyes as her eyelids quivered in order to keep them from falling. ''Bakaito,'' she gasped with a voice filled with anger and pain. ''Why do you have to be so - so rude!?'' She did not hesitate a second as she threw the front door of the Kuroba household in his face.

Kaito's heart dropped in guilt as he heard the quick patter of her footsteps recede down the front yard. Only then did he realize that the ball of yarn she had so proudly presented him minutes earlier, was in fact a scarf. With a swear on his lips for his tactlessness - he was well aware of how hard Aoko had been working trying to knit for her father's birthday. He opened the door to pursue, uncaring about the weather as he stepped into the snow filled front yard with neither shoes nor jacket. His socks were immediately sogged through, but he carelessly ignored the slippery road as he called out.

''Aoko! I'm sorry, come back. I didn't mean it. It's splendid workmanship,'' he wrapped the scarf around his throat as he joined her on the street, desperately hoping she would stop to hear his apology. ''I love it, honestly. Look, I'm wearing it right now. Don't you think the colour fit my eyes?''

His dashing smile was met with a tearful glare as Aoko finally turned to face him. ''Maybe if I gave you a black eye,'' she replied tersely with an unimpressed tone. Her shoulders were hunched and tensed in the way that told him she was ready to swat him like an angry tigress if he took a single step closer.

Wise with years of experience, Kaito stayed put with only a disarming and apologetic smile as he mentally sent out waves of reassurance hoping against everything that Aoko had developed telekinetic abilities the last half a minute.

''I'm sure it would, but black has never really been my colour you know.''

Aoko wavered for a fraction of a second with a frown on her lips. ''Pink has never been Hakuba-kun's colour, but that doesn't seem to deter you. So your point doesn't matter.''

''Doesn't matter?'' He shot back, his shoulder's riffling in affront. 'I'm the protagonist of my life, Hakuba is the antagonist. I'm hurt by the comparison -''

She crossed her arms in mock anger as she rolled her eyes. ''You'd be surprised how the world doesn't revolve around you. From Hakuba-kun's point of view, you are the antagonist -''

Before the usual bantering could continue, they were suddenly interrupted by several things. Behind them, a large truck blew its horn as a gaggle of school children ran across the street. One of them ducked behind Kaito as a snowball hit the magician in the back. From the snow melting down his exposed neck, he immediately regretted not spending that one precious second to grab his winter coat and shoes.

A large man stumbled as another snowball hit him square in the face, and as he wavered his arms to keep himself steady, he bumped heavily into Kaito, who slipped on the ice with only soggy socks. He knocked into the child hiding by his feet and the two went spiralling off the side of the road with a truck quickly approaching with no chance to hit the break -

This was where the phantom thief and the boy who would one day grow up to win the Noble price for curing cancer would have met their imminent deaths had it not been for the scarf Aoko had given him with love few minutes prior. It had trailed behind Kaito like an involuntary puppy through the snow and accidently gotten stuck in the corner of the fence. This caused a waver of the trajectory of their fall, and as the scarf tightened around Kaito's neck, he grabbed the child automatically. Instead of falling straight forward into the path of the truck, they landed safely on the side of the road as the truck swerved to its right straight into a parked - but empty - car.

All the noise around felt deafening as Kaito's heart thrummed in his ears and his breathing had quickened as adrenaline soared through him in surprise. In his arms the child twisted and whimpered from the pain of the impact. The magician grabbed at the scarf around his neck to ease the pressure, and he turned to face Aoko who stood watching him, frozen to the spot as the transpiring events had passed entirely too quick to process.

Licking his lips, it took Kaito two tries to be able to stutter out: ''I stand corrected, this scarf is the protagonist.''

Unfortunately, this tale does not end entirely happy, as our hero was unsalvageable as the holes grew too large and threads lay scattered around. However, that is the usual moral of heroic tales: the hero always dies tragically, but they are never forgotten as Kaito wore the next scarf Aoko knitted him without complaint and proudly.


	11. Obvious facts

_Prompt: Deduction battle! Sera and Heiji team up against the obnoxious Hakuba._

 _Notes: I wrote this story for Poirot café's prompt exchange #11 a while ago, and never got to posting it here._

 _Summary: There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact._

 _Title: Obvious facts_

 _Wordcount: 1362_

 _Published: 12.12.2017_

 _Unbetaed_

 _...  
_

The wind was a soft breeze as it blew past him, barely making the dark fringes of his hair quiver. The cafe was alive with activity, and the cup in his hand was still warm as vapour still steamed dancingly from the hot liquid. The porcelain cup felt comfortably warm against his palm.

Across Hattori Hejii sat Hakuba Saguru: the British detective's casual attire looked more appropriate in a high-classed restaurant, rather than in a cafe. His dark-blond hair was meticulously combed; not even his bangs moved in the flutter of the wind.

''You are mistaken,'' Hakuba said in a low tone, his eyes dark where they bore into his companion unrelenting. Though his face looked impassive, as though he were strolling around in a countryside with a view he had gazed upon countless of times, Heiji spotted the tell-tale twitch of his lips and tension in his shoulder that told him Hakuba was feeling defensive.

''The evidence speak for themselves,'' he responded simply, his eyes moving to the side in a clear dismissal. ''I have never known you to ignore facts to suit your theories.''

Hakuba's eyes flashed darkly, and his lips quirked downwards in displeasure, no longer seemed to care to keep his facial expression neutral. ''I would not have imagined you ever caring to misquote Sherlock Holmes.''

Heiji took a small sip of his cup, the bitter coffee spreading across his palates. Putting it down, he reached for the sugar bowl - how Kudou Shinichi preferred his caffeine black, was beyond his understanding. ''I might not prefer Conan Doyle's books over Ellery Queen's, but that does not however, mean he did not occasionally phrase words wisely.'' Finishing dumping the contents of the sugar bowl, he stirred the spoon a few times before continuing, using the pregnant pause to annoy his companion. ''If you'd rather I quoted directly, how about : There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.''

Hakuba did not look impressed, as evident by the thinning of his lips. ''Somehow, hearing Sherlock Holmes from your lips, make them almost sound filthy.''

Heiji clenched his teeth, feeling a bubble of annoyance in his chest, and he unconsciously tightened his grip around the cup he was holding. ''And here I have always heard you were the mild-mannered of us. Having seen you like this, everyone should bite back their words.''

His glare was met with a cold expression. ''I still prefer it to your hot-headedness, Hattori-san.''

Heiji swallowed thickly, mentally going over the mantra Kazuha had drilled into him, or he would have slammed his fists into the table and made the cutlery dance in his aggravation. ''You are just vexed over the fact I am right, and you are wrong -''

''I highly disagree. Your deduction is based on nothing more than frivolous -''

''And yet, they are true.''

All pretence of tranquillity was gone as Hakuba's expression turned hostile. He made to stand, to shamelessly retreat from a conversation he cared not to discuss - and Heiji was almost tempted to call him a coward for it.

''You must realize that the evidence is as clear as day. The meticulous state of the attire, the direction of the eyes and the obvious wistfulness of the expression. It fools no one, but the owner.''

Hakuba froze in his seat, his eyes wandering to gaze beyond Heiji's line of sight. The silence bobble of their conversation suddenly evaporated, as the sound of the cafe suddenly rolled in almost deafening. He could hear the soft crying of a woman, the confused babbling of a baby, and the soft-toned voices of the police as they interrogated the guests. In the midst of the noise, he could clearly hear the familiar voice of Sera Masumi as she spoke to the forensic team as she most likely hovered over the body of a deceased older man.

''She has no need of our assistance, so sit down Hakuba,'' he tried and failed to sound kindly as he bit his words out in annoyance - why couldn't the Brit just concede to his foolish stubbornness. ''She already came to the same conclusion, surely you must realize.''

Hakuba's expression fell, and for a second, Heiji thought he saw a shimmer of vulnerability. ''I-I cannot.''

Heiji sat back in his seat with a sigh, slowly trailing his fingertips through his hair. He eyed the Brit silently with a quiet expression - feeling neither pride nor smug over the fact he knew something Hakuba did not. Deciding to change his tactic, he turned half-way on his seat to call for assistance. ''Sera!''

The female detective looked up immediately, her green eyes glittering underneath her hat almost blindingly. She was modestly dressed in only a leather-jacket and a vest - an attire usually not chosen by her gender, but she had never particularly cared whenever she was mistaken for a man. She approached the table with light steps, her lips curling upwards in a smile.

Heiji turned back to stare at Hakuba, however the Brit's gaze was glued to the approaching woman as he had frozen in his seat.

''I expect you have already deduced the truth, Sera.''

The female detective grabbed a chair, turned it around so the back faced the table before sliding into the seat and leaned her head against the wood. ''Aye, of course I have.''

Hakuba's expression was almost pained as he glanced away, and had he been anyone else, he would most likely have complained how it was unfair to be ganged up on. However, the Brit held is tongue as silence throbbed between them.

What had been fun to tease about moments earlier, had now turned boring for Hattori Heiji, and he grumbled with a low voice. ''Just admit it, Hakuba. We are not going to get anywhere if you keep denying the obvious truth.''

Hakuba's eyes twitched in the direction of Sera, an expression flashing across his face that Heiji chose not to interpret. ''Something should never be admitted,'' he uttered with a low voice. ''If you know that I know that you know, is that not enough?''

Sera finally interrupted, her voice steady and lack of emotion as she did. ''I'd prefer it if you did.''

The Brit sagged in his seat, as though all air had left him with the will to exist. He opened his mouth for a fraction of a second, before closing it. This time he did not lower his eyes nor look away as his gaze was glued to Sera's expression - and Heiji suddenly felt like he was intruding.

''Forgive me for saying, but you have left me with no other choice,'' Hakuba took a shivering breath, before continuing more steady then before. ''I am in love with you, Masumi. Nothing more, and nothing less.''

Heiji felt a satisfied grin spread across his lips. ''See? Was that so difficult to admit?''

The Englishman ignored his presence as he kept his eyes locked on Sera, who returned his gaze in quiet thoughts. Heiji's smirk subsided marginally as he waited for the conclusion - not that he held his breath, fully knowing what would transpire, and silently thinking about the food he would buy for the money won in their gambling pool.

Sera suddenly reached out to grab Hakuba's hand in hers, and a soft smile twitched on her lips. ''I was not one hundred percent certain - but I was hoping you returned my affections.''

The brit seemed to have frozen as he blinked a few times in surprise. ''Are you saying - ''

He never got to finish his question, as Sera leaned forward to capture his lips in hers, and Heiji stood from his seat, leaving the two to discuss the transpired event. Pretty much everyone had figured out Hakuba and Sera's growing feelings for each other - everyone but the half-brit apparently. As detectives, they seemed to always be blind to their own emotions.

Heiji turned to Takagi and the crime scene, picking up where Sera had left - there was still one mystery to solve. That would make it 3 - 0 wins to him between the rivalling detectives.


	12. Soap

**_Written for Poirot Café's prompt exchange #13._**

 ** _Prompt: Hakuba legitimately surprises Kaito, forcing Kaito to re-evaluate the detective._**

 ** _Wordcount: 1394  
_**

 ** _Published: 14.01.2018_**

 ** _Rating: T+ for some swear words_**

 ** _Title: Soap_**

 ** _A/N: Probably not what the prompter was looking for, however I hope you like it nonetheless._**

…

Kaito was being watched through the crowd, he was certain of it. The intense burning gaze sent a shiver down his spine in foreboding. He tried to keep his head down and be as inconspicuous as he could while slithering through the masses of people. He got an elbow to his sides for his efforts, however he ignored the slight sting of pain as he made a headway to one of the hallways leading to a back room.

There was always a possibility of his disguise being discovered at any moments, and so he always had backup plans up his sleeve. Suddenly, there was an arm grasping his forearm, and Kaito stiffened as he struggled against the impulse of running away. However he did not want to rise more suspicion. Forcing a smile, he turned to face the perpetrator.

"Masumi," Hakuba's gaze almost intensified as he peered into Kaito's face. The detective looked his usual self, pristine groomed hair: not a single strand out of place, and his dress suit looked to be taken straight from the presser. Had it not been for a lack of a bowtie, Kaito imagined Hakuba was trying to be a James Bond look-alike.

"Hakuba-kun," the thief forced himself to sound cheerful as he adopted the female detective's voice. "I didn't see you there." He hoped Hakuba couldn't see the drops of sweat forming at his temple in nervousness. It would surely ruin his immaculate make-up.

"It is a pleasure as always, Sera," Kaito imagined he saw a fond smile on the detective, and he wondered quietly why he suddenly changed to referring the girl with her last name. "May I request your presence for a few moments. In private," he added almost as an after thought as though his formal invitation was rude.

Kaito had to resist the intense urge of rolling his eyes in exasperation. They had known each other for quite a while now, however Hakuba had not changed one bit. The stick holding him up must be glued with superglue.

"I don't really have the time –" he started to protest, having no desire of being alone with the detective. How he had figured out who Kaito was impersonating, he did not know, however he did not want to play on Hakuba's terms.

"Please," a hint of what Kaito would only describe as desperation laced the detective's voice, "I implore you. Only for a moment."

Any objections the thief had died on his lips at the odd show of emotions in Hakuba's eyes. The grip on his arm suddenly spasmed, before the detective withdrew his hand as though burned. Suddenly, Kaito was filled with too much curiosity to decline the request. Before he knew it, he had nodded in agreement.

Hakuba's shoulders loosened slightly in what Kaito believed to be relief, before the detective put his hand gently on the thief's back as he guided him out of the crowd. Almost immediately, the humming of dozens of voices dimmed, and the temperature dropped a few grades as the space was no longer heated by a crowd.

They walked down the hallway for a long minute, every step tensing Kaito's shoulders in foreboding as he put his hand in a pocket and palmed a smoke bomb in case he would have need of it at any moment. Hakuba was a silent companion, and no amount of peeking at him under his fake eyelashes gave him any inclination of the Brit's intentions.

"There is something I would like to say," Hakuba started as they came to a stop at the end of the corridor and turned to face Kaito. The detective suddenly seemed larger now as he almost crowded the thief to the wall from the intensity of his eyes and his lips pursed together in intent.

The thief scrutinized his expression for a second, feeling rather unnerved at the Brit's odd behaviour. Usually he was quite loud and public whenever revealing _Kaitou KID's_ tricks. "I know what you are going to say," he replied, trying not to sound aggravated at being caught. "And fine, you are right, you got me. What are you going to do about it?" his chin lifted ever so slightly in defiance.

Hakuba had frozen at the spot, his eyes widening in surprise at Kaito's honesty – and a part of him felt smug at taking the win away from the Brit by not trying to hide his identity. He wished he could take a picture of the flabbergasted expression.

The detective collected himself a moment later as he inhaled slowly, too many emotions shimmering in his eyes for Kaito to comprehend. "I'm glad," the tender voice came out with merely a soft whisper, and before the thief had time to react, a hand was gentle caressing the hair in his neck, followed by the soft pressure of lips against lips.

Kaito stiffened in surprise, eyes wide and wild as he stared at the detective's closed eyelids. He felt a tongue swiping the bottom part of lips and he could feel the warmth even through the latex, before his tangled thoughts bursts into a disbelieved panic of _Hakuba is kissing me._

The Brit must have felt the tremble of shock as he suddenly withdrew, but not far enough that his hand strayed from Kaito's neck. Uncertainty flickered across his face as he spoke softly. "Is something wrong?"

The thief swallowed thickly, parting his lips a few times, however he could not stutter a single syllable in his shocked surprise. He could not even move a single muscle. His scandalized expression must have been clear as day, as Hakuba withdrew his hand as though burned and leaned back on the balls of his feet.

"I –" his gaze flickered back and forward as shame started to settle in the curve of his mouth. "I apologize, I presumed you knew of my affections and read my intentions before –"

Kaito balked to the wall behind him, wanting to gain as much space between them as he could. "Goddamnit, detective, you don't go around just kissing people villy nilly without any warning," he started to wipe his lips rather harshly in desperation of getting rid of any incriminating evidence – not even bothering to mask his voice.

This time, it was Hakuba that recoiled in horror as he seemed to finally get the memo, and his eyes widened wildly. "Kuroba –?" even in his shock, he fished out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth – and Kaito could swear he saw him gag into the cloth.

"The hell is wrong with you," Kaito groused out in outrage, "now I feel dirty –"

The Brit did not react to the accusation, instead his eyes had turned a little glassy as a shivering hand raked through his hair. The thief could barely understand the incomprehensible muttering escaping his lips. _"Lord have mercy, what have I done – all those hours of practice trying to gain the courage to confess, and I am met with this? This is bollocks, utter bollocks."_

Kaito had never heard such an outburst of emotions and mumbling from Hakuba, that it calmed his nerves slightly with the realization that maybe the detective wasn't such an expressionless stick in the mud after all. However he could not find it in himself to have a shred of sympathy at the accidental confusion of identity knowing their lips had crossed paths.

"We are never talking about this again, did not happen," Kaito told him sternly in denial, wanting nothing more then to get as much distance as he could and brush his teeth until they were raw. Glancing down at his clock, he realized he still had 15 minutes until the heist had started – he definitely deserved finding Pandora today for his troubles.

Hakuba did not waste a second as he agreed wholeheartedly. "I would rather not be associated with this either. Seems like we agree on something for once," almost as though he could read Kaito's mind, he turned around to stroll down the hallway faster then the thief had seen him move before.

Kaito watched him go, and with a last-minute hesitation, he called out: "Good luck."

He might not like the bastard much, but everyone deserved luck when it came to the matter of the heart. In that regard, they were all the same. Even annoying detectives.


End file.
